It had been a week since you'd moved in with your boyfriend, Steve Harrington. You'd started dating him six months ago after meeting at the daycare where you worked. He'd been dropping off his three year old daughter, Daisy, and you'd hit it off.

You'd been scared at first. Dating someone who was fresh out of a bad relationship and raising a toddler alone was always risky. But Steve was the most attentive, amazing boyfriend. And Daisy adored you.

The unpleasant sound of puking had woken you up in the middle of the night. Steve was dead asleep under the covers, so you tiptoed to the bathroom in search of Daisy. The little girl was losing her dinner in the toilet, her skin sweaty and warm.

"Mommy..?" her voice cracked. You felt your heart jump at the word. Steve had avoided calling you Daisy's mother so far, and Daisy had never voluntarily called you mom. You figured the subject was still raw so you never pushed it.

"Yeah, honeybun?" you asked softly, getting over your shock. "What happened?"

Daisy whined, her face messy. "Tummy hurts."